Lemon And Peppermint
by SylvaDragon
Summary: A tender moment between Albus Dumbledore and Minerva Mcgonagall. A short fluffy story with a hint of winter.


Lemon And Peppermint

Albus stands in silence and watches Minerva sleep, scarcely daring to breath lest he wake her. His eyes drift across her like a tender caress, she looks so beautiful, so peaceful.

He's been watching her for days now, noting the tell tale signs of overwork and exhaustion. Finally tonight he decided he had to take action, make her see that she needed rest. And so he'd braved her possible wrath, and when his soft knock went unanswered he took valour a step further, and entered uninvited.

There he finds her sleeping at her desk, her head resting among scrolls and books, dark hair half slipping from it's normal tight bun, and he's captivated by her, just like he's always been. So he stands there, and longs for her. Longs to reach out and stroke her hair, brush his lips across her skin, and he sighs to see how hard she pushes herself.

His lips move silently, and magic wafts out from him like a gentle wave. Lifting her sleeping form and floating her across the room, as though carried on the lightest of clouds, settling her on the couch by the flickering embers of the fire. He tenses, as she shifts in her sleep, then breathes again when she lies still and quiet once more.

Lightly he steps forward, careful to make not a single sound, and gently covers her with a blanket he's conjured, slips a cushion beneath her head. Then gazes wistfully down at her, until at last he steels himself and slips away, pausing in the doorway to shoot one last tender glance at her.

* * *

As the first pale light of the winter sun brushes across the rooftops, the mists of sleep clear, and she drifts slowly back to wakefulness. Still half in the land of dreams, surrounded by aromas of lemon and peppermint, floating on clouds of tenderness, she feels the warmth of the blanket he draped around her. Her fingers brush across the fabric, as though sensing the love that placed it there. A smile drifts across her face, softening the lines of hard work, as she snuggles under the woollen folds, her head resting contentedly against the cushion, that he placed there so carefully.

At last her eyes flicker open, as she stretches and yawns with feline grace. She's surprised to find herself on the couch, even more surprised to see the soft blanket tucked around her. She doesn't remember getting here, doesn't remember covering herself with a blanket, or placing a cushion beneath her head.

She's far too contented, too well rested, to turn her mind to the problem. For some reason she can't keep from smiling, as though some sweet half forgotten memory dances in the recesses of her mind. Her fingers flit lightly across the soft woollen blanket, almost as though they caress a lover. Her nostrils twitch curiously at a scent both familliar and unfamiliar - lemon and peppermint. How curious.

* * *

She joins him at breakfast in the Great Hall, feels her heart lift as he smiles his normal greeting at her. Briefly she wonders how anyone could fail to be happy beneath such a sparkling gaze. She's distracted from her thoughts by a familiar scent wafting towards her - lemon and peppermint. The same aroma as that on the woollen blanket that she'd found tucked around her.

She shoots him an appraising glance, emerald eyes intent. "It's odd you know Albus," She says casually, "But I thought I fell asleep at my desk ..."

"I do wish you wouldn't work so hard Minerva," He says lightly.

"And yet when I woke up, I was on the couch with a blanket round me." She's nearly sure she noticed his face tense suddenly, even though he seems as calm as ever. Her gaze sharpens, as after a brief pause, she asks, "You didn't happen to pay a visit to my study last night did you Albus?"

He shifts uneasily underneath the direct question. "You are all together too perceptive my dear," He answers at last.

She graces him with an unexpected smile, her hand reaching to rest lightly and all too briefly on his. "Thank you Albus." Is all she says, but combined with the touch of her hand, and the warmth in her voice it makes his day.

_Author's Notes_

_Inspired by a very lovely painting by Josephine Wall. I'd hoped to have written and published a whole series of winter and christmas themed stories by now, but all I have is half finished ones. My inspiration is so uncooperative. ;)_

_I'd love to hear what people thought of it. And I hope to publish more before Christmas. Merry Christmas everyone. _


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